


Fruity

by titC



Series: December 2016 - Month of Fluff! [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Bad Jokes, Comfort fic, Drunk Chloe, F/M, Lucifer tries to be good and nice, Sweet Lucifer, but stop mangling my shirts darling, fluff month, girl tribe night aftereffects, lack of really naughty words, sneaky fruit salad, titC tries to do fluffy pr0n, uncoordinated Chloe, yes wifey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 18:06:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8926915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titC/pseuds/titC
Summary: From a prompt by BecomeMyObsession, who is feeling poorly: Chloe gets possessive (of Lucifer). Bonus points if drunk.I don't know if it's why you had in mind, but here it is anyway ♥





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BecomeMyObsession](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecomeMyObsession/gifts).



“I want you,” she said while holding on the barstool, “to stop looking at them.” She nodded firmly and almost lost her balance.

“Certainly, Detective. But looking at whom?”

“Them.” Lucifer stood up from the piano bench to steer her to the couch. “Them women. And men.”

“Shall I stab my eyes out for you, then?” He went back to his bar and got glasses out. One he filled with calvados, the other with water. After a bit of consideration, he brought the carafe of water with him too.

“Naaaaah. Like them.” She smiled up at him, a big, open, artless smile – so sincere it made something twinge inside him. Chloe Decker back from a night out with her girl tribe, ladies and gentlemen. Always, always drunk and mellow and happy; but he knew Maze would never let anything happen to her. Would never let anyone hurt her. Well, the others wouldn’t either, but Maze was particularly protective – didn’t he know about it.

“I’m glad you do. Come on, have some water, you’ll thank me in the morning.”

She dutifully drank the entire glass before half-collapsing on him. “Have you slept with them?”

“Well, some of them, yes. You know that, love.”

“Since we, you know,” she said into his shirt.

“Since we had sex?”

“No, I mean since we got… yes, since that.”

“Er, no. Should I?” She pushed against his chest and sat up quickly, her eyes looking very shiny and – oh, no, Detective; no tears, please.

“No,” she said, voice resolute and a bit wobbly.

What had brought this on? One minute she was bounding out of the elevator, dishevelled and giggling and all soft; then suddenly… this. “Then I won’t. Dr Martin said I shouldn’t, not before asking you anyway. If you say no, then I won’t.”

“Damn right.” She fell back on him and added in a much smaller voice, “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“But… I wouldn’t, Detective. No one compares, I swear. Even if we had a threes – ”

“No, no threesomes. Ever.” She sniffled. “You don’t understand, do you? Everybody wants to sleep with you.”

“I’m that charming, yes.” She pinched his waist viciously. “Ow. You know, I don’t mind if you want to sleep with other people.” He ran his fingers through her hair, untangling it and marvelling all over again at the softness, the colour.

“I don’t want to sleep with other people,” she mumbled.

“Hm. You don’t want to sleep with anybody else so I shouldn’t either? Is that it? Tit for tat kind of thing?”

“They’re all young and pretty and I don’t want to share.”

“Are you – are you jealous? Do you think I’d chose anyone else over you?” He pushed her away from him by the shoulders. “It’s like, it’s like apples and bananas.” She blinked at him. “I like apples more than bananas, but even when I eat a banana I still like apples best and if I have a choice I’ll always go for an apple.”

“ _I_ _am not a banana!_ ”

“Well, here you’re more the apple, my dear.” She glared, swaying a bit. “And you’re my favourite apple, you know that?”

“…Really?”

“Really.” He poured more water into her glass and made her drink it all, and when a drop of water escaped from the corner of her mouth he kissed it away.

“But…”

“But what, my dear?” He tucked a lock of hair behind an ear, letting the back of his fingers linger on her cheek.

“I’m just me,” she said.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, on the contrary.”

“We should have sex. We should have sex all the time.”

“Er, well. Not that I want to disagree, but you’re really drunk right now. You’d start snoring in the middle.”

“Not true.” She tried to open his (favourite) plum-coloured shirt and miraculously fumbled the first (well, third) button open without tearing anything before he stopped her – he’d like to keep this shirt intact, thank you very much – by taking her hands in his and kissing her fingertips.

“Very true.” He kept her hands in his when he stood up and gently tugged her forward, leading her to his bedroom and then helping her undress. She seemed to think he’d changed his mind about sex, but as he’d predicted she fell asleep mid disrobing, and he tucked her in bed like she probably did her daughter every night when she wasn’t, like tonight, with the douche. Looking around and checking she was indeed unconscious, he dropped a kiss on her forehead before settling next to her with a book. She was probably going to wake up a few times in the night, and he planned to be there for each – he’d catch her before she fell on her face, and then tease her about it the next day. And the day after. And the day after that. He smiled at the thought.

 

He woke up to the sound of water running, and after stretching all his limbs with a groan got up and walked to the bathroom, ditching what was left of his clothes on the way. She opened the shower stall when he knocked, and he slipped in and crowded her against the tiled wall to kiss her. She hummed against his lips, her arms folding around his neck.

“Hello,” he said. He just couldn’t grasp any part of her, the soap made her too slippery; and so he rubbed his entire body against hers, slowly but with purpose.

“Hello,” she answered as her hand wrapped around his – oh, Detective, your hands. Small and strong and wonderful. She laughed, and they quickly rinsed themselves off before stepping out and grabbing towels.

“Hungry?” he asked as she patted herself more or less dry.

“Hm. Kind of.” She smirked, and he raised his eyebrows, and she ran back to the bedroom, grinning and happy and – he tackled her on the bed, her still-damp hair sticking to his face.

“Gotcha, Detective.” She wriggled against him, the naughty little tease.

But then she moved with a clear goal in mind, and – he liked that idea. He liked it very much indeed. Twisting them on their sides, he kissed her neck, her shoulders, her back; let his hand cup her breasts softly – she didn’t like them handled roughly, and so he didn’t.

“I said I was _hungry_ , Lucifer.” Oooh, impatient, aren’t we?

“As you wish, love.” However she wanted him, she would have him; and if it was right now, right now it would be.

He rolled her back face down on the bed, careful not to crush her, and after a bit of manoeuvring, finally, he was – well, he was right where he should be.

“I like being in you,” he said into her ear. She got on her elbows and knees, and he moved along with her.

“Like the worm in the apple?”

“...Did you just compare me to a worm?” She laughed again, and he moved a little – just there – just to make her gasp. He could feel everything, her mirth and her breathing and her every shiver. “Oooh, I’ll show you, Detective.”

“Show… show me what?”

He didn’t answer but, his forearm low on her stomach, he sat back on his heels, helping her shift along with him. He was tall enough that even when she was sitting on his thighs, his mouth was still at the perfect height to reach her neck, her cheek, her temple – delicate and smooth and he kissed it.

She let her head fall to the side, then back on his shoulder; and he gently gathered her hair in his hands, letting it fall behind him.

He started to move again, slowly, his fingers caressing all of her in-between settling on her hips to help her follow him. She was breathing faster now, high little sounds passing her parted kips from time to time; and he could feel her hair brushing against his back – yes, against the ugly scars there – with each movement. It was agonizing and beautiful, beautiful.

He took one of her hand and brought it down, down, down between her legs, where everything was hot and wet. She took the hint and started touching herself, and oh so casually him, too, just right there; and then – then! – she caught his hand as he was taking it away and starting sucking in his fingers, and no, no – that wouldn’t do, he wouldn’t last, he wouldn’t –

“Why do you… always… make me come first?” She panted out when he removed his fingers from her mouth. I want… I want to feel you…”

She turned her head and tucked her face against his neck, and he could feel her gasping for breath on his skin. He was hot, he felt hot, too hot – “I’m going to, I, I…”

He did.

She did, too.

 

Sunlight was caressing their faces and gently waking them up from their light doze. He rubbed his face a little against her arm, soft and warm and his.

“I’m sorry for last night,” she whispered into the quiet.

“Sorry for what?” He pulled her a little closer into his body.

“For being… you know.”

He kept silent for a while, simply enjoying the feel of her against him. “You know,” he finally said. “Dr Martin always says talking about things is key. Even if we think it’s silly.” His fingers ran lightly over the peach-like fuzz of her skin. “And so, you should know… Chloe, I…”

She turned around in his arms. “I know. Me too.”

And sometimes, the words you didn’t say got out anyway.


End file.
